


come to your brother

by nicotinedaydream



Series: Tumblr Dialogue Prompts [10]
Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Choking, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicotinedaydream/pseuds/nicotinedaydream
Summary: David isn't dead, and Michael is about to find out what happens when you piss off a vampire.





	come to your brother

**Author's Note:**

> "Boo."
> 
> "I thought you were dead."
> 
> I used two tumblr drabble quotes this time. Also, first time writing for this film franchise. David's such a tough character to write.

" _Boo_."

The whisper lights something in Michael's chest; a hunger that had subsided the night Max bit the dust, quite literally. He attempts to sit up, only to find a pair of cynical blue eyes inches from his face.

"I thought you were dead," he breathes, incapable of much else. His first instinct is to check on Sammy, asleep in the bedroom across the hall. They'd killed David's brothers, and he's not willing to bet the man is against returning the favour.

David chuckles, a purring vibration that settles itself under Michael's ribs, like a dark promise. A gloved hand grips his face, leather-clad fingers stroking his cheekbone. "Thought you'd got rid of me, huh, Michael?"

He doesn't want to give David any influence over him, hasn't felt this powerless since that night. The look on the vampire's face when those antlers had pushed their way through his body, death digging itself in deep. The way David's eyes had caught his, just for a mere second, to convey something he'd not been able to put words to until now, pinned down and helpless under what could only be a long-awaited reckoning.

"Don't hurt my brother," he manages to wheeze, David's fingers gripping vice-like around his throat.

"Not the plan, Mike." David's voice is low; a croon, if anything. The weight of it is cruel, more than the fingers pressing into his jugular, sharp and tight. "That would be too easy."

Michael can feel his heart, a sickening throb in his chest. He could try to fight, but he knows he'd lose.

"Wanna know what I really want, Michael?" David's lips split into a predatory smile, teeth refulgent, a glint of fang.

Michael doesn't answer. He _can't_. His head is starting to ache, pressure behind his eyes, at the back of his throat, depraving him of the air he needs. He gasps out a faint, raspy breath, vision weak and out of focus.

Before he loses consciousness, Michael hears one last whisper, cold and unforgiving.

" _You_." 


End file.
